The gerbil has been caught! I was reading in bed, when I heard a rustling from downstairs, and the Wife came up and said that Daughter #1 had caught the gerbil and they needed Daddy’s assistance to repatriate the rodent. Apparently, she had quite matter-of-factly seen the gerbil right outside his temporary living quarters, picked up the tupperware container that we had been using to catch him, and placed it gently down over him. Ta-da! John Walsh couldn’t have done it any better. I was put in charge as commander-in-chief of Operation Close Encounter. I directed Daughter #2 to sit by the cage and open the door when we came near. I then slipped a 6-pack carboard container under the bowl, and the Wife and I transported the fugitive back to the Habitrail. Michael, though a bit frightened, immediately became comfortable in his new surroundings, covering himself up with shavings and going right to sleep. His flatmate, David, took the other end and did the same thing. I don’t know how long gerbils’ memories are, so I do know if they recognized one another, or if it was as if they met each other through Craigslist. There was much rejoicing.

But the celebration was not unalloyed. The refrigerator, probably coincidentally with Michael’s taking up residence there, went on the fritz, and will most likely have to be replaced. That goes along with the roof and D#1’s bedroom windows, which leak in heavy downpours like the one we had last night.

D#1’s International Day project is on display today. If you remember, she had chosen Iceland, and has learned much about Björk’s homeland. We tried to make a sort of Icelandic smoothie, the recipe for with we got from an actual Icelandic person (thanks, Drew!) Unfortunately, the active ingredient is an Icelandic yoghurt called Skyr, which is only available east of the Hudson according to the guy at Trader Joe’s. So, the Wife has had to improvise, and we’re all crossing our fingers that it works out.